


Across the Plane of the Ecliptic

by lexicale



Series: Dawnbringer!verse [5]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 06:22:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexicale/pseuds/lexicale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you're a parent, even when everything is fine, even when everything is okay and nothing is wrong, you still worry.</p><p>A series of vignettes over the last two months of Jared's pregnancy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Across the Plane of the Ecliptic

**[Week 14]**

Jensen grunted as he was woken unceremoniously, a knee jamming into his hip and stirring him from what had been a blissfully deep and dreamless slumber. He shuffled down into the blankets, pulling them tighter around him to keep out the chill, trying to seek that same dark unconsciousness when there was a sudden flurry of movement next to him, a body shifting and moving around, shoulders bumping against his own, and he groaned.

"Jared, my sweet, never doubt my love for you, but if you don't settle down, I swear, I will ask the gods themselves to find a way to punish you."

There was a moody grumble, and, for half a heartbeat, Jensen thought that might actually be it, until Jared moved again, rolling right back into the position he started in, only this time his movements happened to yank most of the blankets off of Jensen's body. The alpha let out a barely restrained yelp at the rush of cold autumn air against his bare skin, setting it prickling with goosebumps. He grappled around for the cloth, tugging it back around him as best he could before rolling over to face his mate.

"Jared," he said, settling into the notion of being awake, because this clearly wasn't going to be something easily dismissed. He heard his mate grunt a reply. "Jared, if we _both_ are to be deprived of rest, can we at least talk about why that is?"

Jared sighed, rolling on to his back, and Jensen could see his lover's profile illuminated by the moonlight, filtering in weak and thready through the single window in the west facing wall.

"Jared?" he asked again, pushing, wondering if this was something as major as it had been over a month ago, when his mate had been considering calling his family, but Jared wasn't crawling over him, wasn't nosing and nudging and looking for the release of giving himself over into his dominant's care. Instead, Jared whined petulantly.

"They won't stop _moving,"_ he said, his tone as awful as a pouting cub's.

"They won't--" Jensen started, before his mind caught up and he let out a huff of breath, shaking his head in realization. "Oh."

"Don't 'oh' me. You don't have a bunch of cubs in your stomach holding an impromptu rave at three in the morning."

"What's a rave?"

"Shut up."

Jensen obediently shut his mouth. He'd done some foolish things in his life, certainly, but even he knew better than to argue with a fertile three months pregnant and stomach distended with life. Jared looked beautiful -- more beautiful than ever -- with his abdomen taut and slightly rounded, not huge, not half as big as Jensen had seen some fertiles get near the end of their pregnancies, but still undeniably with children. With _Jensen's_ children, and the thought still thrilled him.

"Is there anything I can do?" he finally offered. He wasn't getting sleep so long as Jared wasn't, and he knew it was his place to comfort as much as he could. Jared was bearing the greater burden, after all.

"Make your cubs stop dancing on my innards," the saber responded, only just holding off from keening.

"Why are they _my_ cubs when they're irritating you?"

"Because they get that from _you,_ not me."

Jensen let out a faint sound of frustration, but it was still Jared that was carrying their children -- still Jared who was being kept up late and miserable because of the cubs he was caring for, deep inside. The cubs that Jensen had trusted him with.

The alpha pushed himself to his hands and knees, sighing out when the tight cocoon of their blankets was once again disturbed. It was already mid November, and the misty air of the mountains was pleasantly cool during the day -- shivery cold at night. It wouldn't be too much longer until that changed into full winter, and most of Jensen's pride would end up sleeping on the ground floor of the main house, the fireplace almost constantly lit and glowing. 

It wouldn't be long at all until the world turned white and icy, and Jensen's cubs would be born with a blanket of snow on the ground.

He lifted a hand, rubbing it over Jared's skin, feeling it warm and tight and stretched, and Jensen couldn't wait to meet them.

He settled himself over his mate, straddling Jared's thighs, and he ran the palms of both his hands over his mate's stomach. Beneath the surface he could clearly feel the motions of his children, wriggling and shifting inside his fertile's belly, and the sensation warmed him where the blankets could not. He loved the unmistakable feeling of life inside of his mate, the knowledge that his children were still safe, still alright. It was impossible for him to not worry, after what had happened with Tristan's litter. He'd recovered, eventually, though he would always feel the sting of that loss, but he couldn't bear the thought of turning into that kind of person again.

He couldn't treat his pride, his family, his mate like he had back then. And because of that, he worried. He worried like he never had, when Cosette was carrying. He'd blithely believed that everything would be alright, hadn't even considered the possibility that it wouldn't be. Now, he knew better. Now, he knew how easy it was to lose, and he feared it, this time even more than ever, because he was _here,_ with his mate and family, and not even the great cat gods knew how Jared would deal with losing his first litter.

Not after everything Jared had been through.

Jensen leaned down, bending his body over Jared's, and murmured against his fertile's stomach.

"Come now," he said, imbuing his voice with what he hoped was paternal authority. "Can't you see you're keeping you're mother up? He needs his rest... He's going to be running around after all of you in a few weeks time, and you need to let him sleep."

Under his hand, his children shifted and moved. He could make out distinct points of motion, could feel the sensation of multiple bodies, long little torsos moving -- not a solitary, human shaped child, but several kittens. The movements were too obscured, too indistinct for him to count them, and he and Jared had had several teasing debates about just how many cubs were growing in Jared's belly, but it was becoming clear that it wouldn't be a large litter. Jared was just entering his fourth month of pregnancy, eight or nine weeks away from birth at the _most,_ and he still wasn't that large. 

Jensen didn't care. He just wanted them born, safe and sound and whole. 

He wished they could avail themselves of the humans' medical know how and machines. He'd read about sonograms, about the amazing technology behind being able to look inside a body, and he'd seen the figures in his medical books, examples of human fetuses curled tightly into a womb. He wished they had access to technology like that, that he could see and count each of his children as they grew and waited inside their warm home.

He rubbed his hand back and forth, smiling fondly.

"Think they can hear you?" Jared asked, and Jensen leaned up automatically as he felt his mate's hand run through his hair, caressing his scalp, and the alpha let his purr start up, hard pressed to think of a better scenario -- his fertile's hand on him, and his own hands on his mate's heavy stomach, their children sheltered beneath.

"Yes," he answered, voice rumbling.

"And they're going to listen?"

"Of course... I'm their father. They know to listen to my voice." He leaned back down, pressing his lips to Jared's skin. "Don't you?" he spoke to them again, mouth moving against his mate. "Now...Quiet down. Quiet and down and rest for your mother."

He turned his head to the side, ear pressing to flesh, and he could hear the subtle sounds of movement until his purr drowned them out, the rumbling of his throat pressed against Jared's skin. He shut his eyes, the vibrations slowly, very slowly lulling his children to slumber, and he felt the motions become more sluggish, and eventually halt.

He felt his chest tighten, and even if quieting them down had been his goal, he didn't like the sensation. He had dreams sometimes, wicked and cruel, of the cubs in Jared's belly going silent and still, as unmoving as the grey bodies he'd tucked shamefully into a picnic basket. Dreams where the children he helped to deliver were no more than the dirt covered skeletons he'd unearthed and lowered into the Pale Gulch, their boney bodies slipping out of Jared as his saber moaned and cried.

Jensen shivered a little, and his purr tapered off. 

Under him, under Jared's skin, there wasn't a stirring, and Jensen almost wanted to wake them back up. To nudge and mewl until the kittens in his mate's belly woken and began to wriggle again.

"You okay?" he heard Jared ask softly, hand still combing through Jensen's hair.

Jensen turned his head and kissed his fertile's stomach, crawling up his body.

"I'm fine," he replied, shifting them until Jared was on his side, and Jensen could curl up tightly behind him, one arm tossed over his mate's waist. "You? Do you feel a bit better...?"

"Yeah," Jared grunted as he carefully arranged himself, settling only once Jensen's hand was warmly spread over his stomach. "I think I can actually sleep now..."

"Good... You need your rest." Jensen had to remind himself that they were okay. Everything was fine, and it was more important that Jared sleep well, that his saber got all the care he needed, and Jared definitely _didn't_ need Jensen waking the cubs inside of him again, just to ease his own mind.

"You sure you're alright?" Jared murmured again, and Jensen could hear the soft muddling of the words -- the sound of a mind already turning back towards unconsciousness, desperate for sleep.

"I'm fine," he repeated as he kissed the back of Jared's neck, looking over his mate's shoulder to the lump in the blankets where Tristan was sleeping, curled up near his parents and shuffling a little, deep in a dream. "Now go to sleep... Everything is okay now."

He heard Jared mumble, felt the fertile hitch his legs up a little, body automatically curling around his swollen stomach, and Jensen stayed awake just a little longer. He lay against Jared's back, and watched over his family, eyes sharp in the darkness, every inch of him determined to take care of everything that now lay in his arms.

He shut his eyes, knowing that Jared was safe, that his son was safe, and that his unborn children slumbered securely within their mother's stomach, but that knowledge couldn't seem to touch upon his worry.

And he hated to admit how powerless he really was.

\-----

**[Week 15]**  


"Yes, I'm doing fine," Jared said for what had to be the forty-third time.

"Are you taking pre-natal vitamins? Do they have those in werecat prides? I should buy you some and mail them to you." 

Jared would interrupt, but it was a lost cause: his mother wasn't going to stop now, and Jared just smiled, shaking his head and listening as she continued.

"I'll just mail them right to the post office in Bryson. They'll be able to pick them up there, won't they? You need to make sure you're getting enough folic acid. Though I suppose you _are_ eating plenty of fish. Oh, I don't even _know_ what cats need during pregnancy. I'm going to have to ask your father. I'm sure he'll have some idea. Or at least someone in the park service will. You absolutely must make sure to take pictures of each and every one of them when they're born. You know, I never got to see you when you were tiny. You were already several weeks old when Stanley brought you home... Little bundles of fluff surrounding hungry bellies. Almost ate us out of house and home. Of course, if I'd have known how much you'd eat _later_ in life..." She chuckled to herself, and Jared could see her in his mind -- shaking her head, loose brown hair darting around her thin cheeks, angular face lit up and eyes sparkling behind her thick rimmed glasses. 

He could still remember her when he was younger, before the grey streaked through her hair and before the little worry lines set up shop in the corners of her eyes. He could remember her coming in the door, home from one of her substitute teaching gigs, fluffing out the umbrella to scare off the rain before putting it in the base of the coat rack. This time of year, she would be wearing her longer dresses, down to her calf, simple and modest, over too thick nylon stockings that made her look older than she was. 

He wondered if she was holding the phone in her rubber gloves, her obsessive cleaning always reaching the greatest heights in the spring and the fall. Though it was probably already winter, where they were.

"...so I'll get Stanley to look up ticket prices. I'm sure I can get something good this far in advance, though I'll have to miss the birth itself, if we're estimating."

"Wait, what?" Jared sat up straighter, blinking as he tried to run the conversation through his head and figure out how they'd gotten from Point A to Point Theta.

"Jared, are you listening to me?" She tutted, and he knew that face as well as if he'd been standing in the same room with her. The _'Jared, stop day dreaming and pay attention or I'll put you out in the bear cage don't think I won't'_ face. "Just as bad as when you were a child. Never listening to anything anyone said."

"Wonder where I get _that_ from," Jared muttered, and was summarily ignored.

"Now, as I was saying, I want to come and visit as soon as you've had the cubs. But it'll be easier for us to get tickets in advance, so we'll just have to book a flight for a couple of weeks after your due date. I'd really like to be there as soon as they're born, but I'm afraid it's just not feasible. So, when is your due date?"

"I don't...know?" Jared shook his head, trying to keep up. "Gah, no. Mom, you don't have to come all the way out here again. I don't want you and Dad to be spending that much money--"

"None of that. There's absolutely no way I'm missing the birth of my first grandchildren -- or, well, as close to it as I can get. Not to say that Tristan _isn't_ my first grandchild, but I missed all of that, so I don't intend to miss this. And besides, I plan on visiting as frequently as I can."

"Mom, you're putting Brandon and Daniel through _college_ \--"

"Which is coming out of their college funds, dear. It's not touching our savings. If anything we're living more frugally now with the boys out of the house." There was a little inhale then, a suck of breath, and Jared feels his chest tighten, knowing what's coming next. "You were gone so long, my little baby... I wish you were back here with me, sitting on our couch reading your books. I wish you were _home."_

"I know, Mom..." he replied thickly.

"I know you're happy there, and _I'm_ happy that you're happy there, I just..." There was a pause, a pop of lips pressing together and parting again. "I just missed you so very much. I suppose I entertained dreams of bringing you home and coddling you. It's a little hard to let that go."

"I know, I know you did, Mom. But hey, hey." He sat up straighter, putting his hand to the phone like he could comfort her like that. "We're back together now. You know where I am, and I can call you, and you can come and visit... I know you wanted me home and a part of me wanted that too, but we're good. We'll be okay."

"Of course," she sniffled a little, and Jared smiled, eyes watery.

"Don't do that. You'll set me off and then it'll be just like our last phone call. Let's get through _one_ conversation without either of us crying, okay?"

"Of course, of course..." she repeated. There was another sniff, and then the sound of her blowing her nose, and Jared could imagine her dabbing at her eyes as she pulled herself together. "So then, let's get the details worked out."

"I--"

"And don't try to convince me not to, Jared Tristan. I only get to talk to you every few weeks, and I'm not putting this off until the next time you call. You'll just try to put it off then, too. So tell me what your due date is so that I can start calling the travel agent."

"You can just look flights up on the computer, Mom..."

"I don't like that. The little forms are always so confusing -- and you're dodging the question."

"I don't _know_ when my due date is," he almost whined, and heard her tut. _Again._

"How can you not know when your due date is! That's one of the things that every mother -- father? -- is supposed to know. I bet you haven't read up at all. I should just be down there with you through the whole thing--"

"Not necessary, Mom!" he cut in hastily, needing to derail _that_ line of thought.

"Well, when did you conceive?"

Jared felt himself go hot, and he was glad he was in the office alone, because he was sure his face would be the color of beet root. 

"I--what?"

"When did you _conceive?_ We can count the weeks from then."

"I can't tell you that!" he objected. "You're--You're my _mom."_ Because... _clearly._

"Jared, don't be silly. It's not a _mystery_ how you became pregnant. We figured it out all by ourselves."

"I--but--" He ran a hand through his hair. "Um, three--three months ago. And a bit."

"Jared, pregnancies are measured in _weeks."_

Oh god, he was going to strangle himself with the phone cord. It was the only way.

He scrubbed his face, making a sound of frustration, mumbling a short curse under his breath, hopefully quiet enough that she couldn't hear.

"The last--The last week in August."

"Okay, so..." He could hear her counting off, '1-2-3-4' under her breath as she tapped the weeks off, the occasional rustle of the calendar being turned barely making it through the connection. "So that would put you at...15 weeks. Now, you'd said that the pregnancy is going to last five months, which, I looked up in _What to Expect When You're Expecting,_ and that's 23 weeks. So you have eight to go."

That made Jared's stomach drop out. Eight weeks sounded like such a short time. Eight weeks was _nothing._ Was he really that close? He glanced down at the not insignificant bulge of his stomach and had to admit to himself, it seemed like it.

"Which means you should be due at the end of January. Well, in that case I'll schedule my flight for early February, unless you _really_ want me to be there, because I would love to be, and I could try and arrange--"

"No! No--" Jared pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll... I'll look forward to February, okay?"

The only way that Jared thought he might be able to give birth to these kittens was if he was absolutely, one hundred percent certain that his family was on the other side of the country. Otherwise he might well just refuse and call off the labor. The cubs would just have to grow up inside him.

"Well...okay, if you're sure." Her voice warbled a little, sounding uncertain and like she was hoping Jared would suddenly change his mind.

"I'm _sure."_

"And you're okay?"

"Mom. Seriously. _I'm okay."_

"It's just..." There was a pause, the sound of lips being wet. "You're going to have babies, honey. I just... I never expected that."

"Believe me," Jared huffed, but it wasn't a laugh. "I didn't either. I know it's...it's weird. Really weird. And I'm really glad you're...you know. Dealing with it like you are. You'd be well within your rights to run for the hills."

"Oh honey, no mother should ever do that. It's...different, sure. But you're still my little boy, and those are still my grandchildren. I'm... I'm just going to have to get used to it."

She didn't sound comfortable, or happy -- but she was still there, still on the phone, and Jared knew, despite the slight swing of sadness in his chest, that that was what counted. He couldn't force people to change the way they saw the world, and he had no right to ask them to. It was a lot of weird to take on, and Jared was only dealing with it because he didn't have a choice. He had cubs wriggling around in his belly. It was kind of something that wasn't easy to ignore.

His mom did have a choice though. She could hang up. She could have turned around when he told her and walked out the door, and Jared wasn't sure he would have blamed her. But she hadn't. Despite misgiving, despite how strange and hard to accept this all was, she was still there, still trying to support him.

Arranging a trip out to see him, to show him that she wasn't going to leave.

And honestly, that love -- love in the face of personal adversity -- meant more than the acceptance. She loved him too much to not try. And he loved her for that.

They talked for another half an hour, long enough that Jared was beginning to feel bad about using up the little local post office's long distance, but listened anyways as she told him about how Brandon and Daniel were doing, how they were settling into the semester and working hard -- or, at least, Brandon was. Jared felt a little pang of jealousy, smile on his lips as he thought of his brother's there, and thought of how he'd always known he'd be there with them, and how in the end he wasn't at all. 

He listened as she talked about his dad's work, and some kerfuffle with the school board that had his mom in a rage, and even a little bit about how cold the weather was getting, the snows already well and deep up there. 

When she said _'I love you'_ he knew she meant it with all her heart, and he said _'I love you too'_ and meant it without reservation.

He hung up and made his way out of the office, pulling his coat around himself half to keep out the chill, half to keep his kittens safe from the prying eyes of the humans and jogged outside, seeing his breath fog cleanly in the air. The outside of the post office was decorated with bright flickering lights, and wreathes were hung on every available surface, four weeks to Christmas and the town looking like a Norman Rockwell painting.

He looked up into the dusky sky, overcast and grey and beautiful, and he could hear the ringing of a Salvation Army bell somewhere far away.

"Jared'hain," a voice came from behind him, and Jared looked back over his shoulder at Brutus, the blonde man leaned back against the walls of the post office, his face painted in its usual stoic determination. 

"I'm fine, Brutus," Jared responded, without having to be asked. He'd gotten strangely used to the beta's presence and style of non-talking. 

"We should get back to the car to wait for Jeff -- you shouldn't be out in this cold."

"Dude, it's not like we have central heating back home."

"All the same." The beta tried to shoo him, and when that didn't work he gave Jared a consternated look, brow furrowing. He spoke lower. "I don't want the humans to see your cubs."

"Worried they'll steal me away from Jensen when they see my sexy bod?"

"You are incorrigible."

"I have a jacket on, man! They'll just think it's a beer gut."

"Jared'hain...why do you even _want_ to be standing out on the sidewalk in the cold?"

"...I don't." Then Jared grinned. "I just like being difficult for you."

He enjoyed watching the beta grumble and shuffle around, finally goading Jared towards the truck and mumbling something about blankets. Somewhere around the corner from them Jared could hear cheesy Christmas carols spilling out of a bar or a restaurant, and the sound of voices laughing and talking. He paused at the passenger door, hand on the cold metal, and thought of home and the tree that his father was sure to bring home. The huge dinner his mother would cook while complaining about how no one appreciated her. Brandon stringing popcorn onto thread while Daniel grabbed pieces and did his best to undo all the work.

It made him feel nostalgic, made him miss it, especially with the memories of them all back in his life again, so fresh, if still a little raw. He longed for the Christmas in a way, but even so, he found he didn't want to go back. Not because of the pregnancy or the pride or even Jensen -- but because he was no longer a child that could go crawling back to his parents whenever he was scared or sick.

He was growing up. And he was making a life for himself. 

And he wanted that more from life than just the comfort of childhood things.

"Eight more weeks, babies," he said, and looked down as he pressed a hand to his stomach. "Eight more weeks..."

\-----

**[Week 16]**  


The wind whipped through the mountains, ran through the valleys like a torrent, like water sinking and rushing into every crack and crevice, chilling the land in preparation for the coming winter. Already the herds were thinning, the flocks flying north while other animals dug themselves holes in the ground to sleep away the dark. It made the woods hauntingly quiet, safe for the crackle of dried out leaves that had dropped from their branches weeks ago, and Tristan loved it -- loved the way the leaves would snap and crinkle when he ran through them.

It reminded him a little of a place a long time ago, that he couldn't quite recall. But he knew it had been good.

His father watched from a wary distance, always close, close enough to see him, but still far enough away that Tristan could forget his father was there at all as the cub chased shadows in the golden afternoon light. Father was leaned back against a tree in his furless form, the sharp wind raising goosebumps along his naked skin, but he didn't seem to mind the cold like Tristan did. Father was strong like that.

Tristan had never been this far from home before, at least since he and Mother had arrived. It had been a very long walk out here, following along after the long line of Father's tail, trying to catch it and failing far more often than he succeeded. It had been kind of tiring, and part of Tristan wanted to curl up and sleep, but the bigger part of him was too excited, too thrilled to be out with Father and it be just the two of them, big and strong and holding down the world. Tristan knew that one day he would be just like his father, his claws sharp and his frill full and raised.

In the meantime, though, there was a spot of light coming through the canopy, skittering wildly over the leaves, and Tristan tried to track it, determined to stop its frivolous wanderings. He eventually threw himself forward with a pale imitation of an adult dominant's scream, putting all his might into it, but the light evaded him, as usual, and Tristan scattered leaves as he tried to pin it down with paws still flailing.

"You will be a fine hunter one day, my Tristan," he heard his father say, and Tristan looked up to see Father's eyes watching him with a familiar warmth. "I know this because it's in your blood, as it is in mine, and the blood of all those who came before us."

Tristan threw his tail back and forth, enjoying the sensation of it twisting around, his rear still pushed up in the air and his shoulders sprawled out. He could understand what the adults were saying sometimes, now. Not always, and most of it was still too confusing, but he knew that his father was trying to tell him something.

Tristan quirked his head to the side when Father turned his head to look elsewhere, looking further away than he really was. Tristan trotted over, scrambling up a small embankment of annoyingly slippy leaves, and made his way over. He half crawled up on to Father's thigh, resting his paws there. He felt Father's hand come to settle on his back, brushing through his fur, and it reminded Tristan of bath time, when Mother would hold him down and lick all his fur into place.

He didn't love that as much as he used to. Now it was kind of annoying.

"Back at the beginning of the world," Father spoke, his voice pulling Tristan's attention back to him. "When the Shifting Litter still ran the earth, Thaylil, the Great Father of your mother, was the most powerful warrior. She was as swift as the river, as long as the mountains, as lean as the deserts. She was the finest cat that ever lived -- but you need not hide your face in shame, for though Thaylil was the greatest warrior, she was not the greatest hunter. _That_ honor went to our Great Father, the first cougar dominant, Neera."

Tristan's head quirked again, ears tilting as he puffed his whiskers up, blinking curiously. He understood a word every so often, but the meaning didn't matter so much as the melody, and Tristan liked listening when his father talked like this -- the way he talked when he was putting Tristan down to sleep, talking about big things that Tristan was still too small to imagine.

 _'Neera,'_ the cub responded, his thoughts still pattern bursts of ideas, still slowly becoming language as he learned and grew, but Father just nodded, understanding as he always did, used to the bright and often nonsensical headspeak of kittens.

"Yes. She was a fine dominant, no stripes to speak of, and often mocked by her other dominant siblings: Shemri, the tiger, or Rajsha, the jaguar. But Neera didn't need any handsome stripes or spots, because of all her siblings, she was the greatest hunter. She could wait for days, tracking her prey by heartbeat alone, and could make herself as still as stone, holding her breath for three nights and stilling her whiskers from even the slightest twitch. She felled bison with only her claws and her teeth, and even hunted the great birds, long before they all died out. But, in time, she found that her prowess brought her little joy. For sport, she asked her siblings to bring her a true challenge.

" 'Bring for me the most colored hen,' said Thaylil, and Neera did, and watched as her sister took the feathers and fashioned them into a headdress for her mate. 'Bring for me the largest boar, with tusks as long as our sister's fangs,' said Tlani, the fertile of the cheetah, and Neera did, and she watched as her brother took the tusks from the boar and hung them from a fantastic necklace for himself. 'Bring for me the eggs of the fire bird, from the nests at the edge of the world,' said Duah, and Neera did, and watched her brother bring them for his cub heavy mate, who ate them as a delicacy. But of all her siblings, only Hlune, your Great Mother, the cougar fertile and Neera's intended, asked for nothing."

Father paused, and Tristan's ears twitched, looking for the sounds, the way they played around in the cool winter air and wove pictures in Tristan's head of all the world in color and bright. Father smiled and ruffled Tristan's fur before continuing.

"Neera asked: 'What would you have me bring you, to be my mate?' but Hlune turned away and replied 'I ask for nothing.' 

'Surely,' Neera said. 'There is something in this world that you desire. Let me bring it to you, to show you what a fine hunter I am.'

'I ask for nothing,' Hlune repeated. 'But to be left alone.'

'Then you shall be my prey,' said Neera. 'And I shall hunt you as I have hunted every other game in the world.' 

"So, Hlune ran. First, he ran towards the sun, thinking that Neera would be unable to see him against the unending light of the Eye. But Neera was a great hunter, and she tracked the fertile across great swaths of land. And when she came to him Hlune asked 'How did you find me?' Neera replied 'Even as you ran from me, your shadow ran behind you, and because it loves me, it told me where you were.'

"So Hlune ran away from the sun, so that his shadow was cast in front of him, ran as far as he could, until the world had turned many times under his feet. Still, Neera found him. 'I ran so that my shadow could not betray me. How did you find me?' he asked again, and Neera replied 'Even as you ran from me, your pawprints ran behind you, and because they love me, they told where you were.' But Hlune was not one to give up easily -- as fine a hunter as Neera was, Hlune was just as fine a prey. He shifted into his human form, so that Neera wouldn't know his footprints, and ran once more. He ran across the painted desert, the dust moving quick around him and the air dry as bone. Even so, soon enough, Neera found him, and when Hlune asked 'I ran so that my pawprints and shadow could not betray me. How did you find me?,' Neera said: 'Even as you ran from me, your scent was carried on the wind, and because it loves me, it told me where you were.' "

There was a little jolt of movement on the other side of Father's legs, and Tristan's eyes swang to it, body tensing. He could see a leave jittering around, and perhaps it was just the wind. Tristan flexed his claws a little, and he felt Father's hand rub his scruff before Father continued to talk.

" 'Then I shall run to where you will never find me,' said Hlune, and he took off before Neera could catch him. He ran for days and swam across the raging waters of the river, so as to lose his scent, so that Neera couldn't track him. He ran beneath the Dead Eye, through the darkness where he had no shadow, and through the snow that filled in his pawprints behind him. But when he finally stopped to rest, Neera still found him, and Hlune despaired, asking 'I ran so that neither my shadow nor my pawprints nor my scent could betray me. How did you find me?' and Neera replied 'Even as you ran from me, your heart beat in my ears, and because it loves me, it told me where you were.'

"And Hlune could run no more, because even he could not betray the love of his own heart."

Father's voice stopped then, but Tristan wasn't listening. His eyes widened as the leave shifted more, and a _bug_ crawled out from under it, creeping over the ground with all its spindly legs moving at odd angles. He was so excited he could hardly _breathe._

 _'Bug,'_ he said in response to father's words, and his shoulders hunched down. A second later he leapt across Father's lap and gallivanted through the leaves, throwing them every which way until he couldn't see the bug anymore. When he came to a stand still stop, he looked everywhere, but it had vanished. It was obviously a very clever bug.

Tristan looked over to father for help, but father was just smiling and shaking his head.

"I suppose I should know better than to try and impart wisdom to a nine month old..." He chuckled a little, and reached out to ruffle Tristan's head again, making the cub feel wobbly as he tried to balance on four legs. He splayed his paws. 

"You see?" Father continued. "That is your Great Father's blood in you. The hunter of the world." He sighed out, letting his head rest back against the tree trunk behind him, and looked up through the canopy at the drifting clouds of the early winter sky, blue reflected in his eyes. "I was the same, you know." He spoke up into the leaves. "Just as Hlune ran from Neera, your mother ran from me. But I chased him, just as Neera did. I hunted him, until he became mine."

 _'Mother.'_ Tristan responded, having forgotten about Mother until Father mentioned him, and then he remembered how much he wanted to see Mother, to curl up with him and rest. He ran back over to his father, pressing his paws up against Father's leg, the bug forgotten and in the past. He wanted to go and see Mother. _'Want to find mother.'_

Father laughed and ruffled Tristan's fur again, and then he changed his shape, becoming the big tawny cat, but his scent never changed. Tristan purred when Father leaned down to give him a few passes with his tongue, and he rubbed up against the side of Father's leg.

 _'Come. Let's finish our patrol,'_ Father said, and turned to walk away. 

Tristan trotted along beside the sweep of the larger cat's paws, in his shadow, and the winter trees were thin and spare around them, the air clear enough to see for miles.

\-----

**[Week 17]**

The fire licked along the wood, sparking on errant twigs and tinder, flickering orange and yellow and casting light out into the otherwise darkened space of the mainhouse, shadows stretched long across the wooden floors.

Jared wasn't up in the attic with Tristan, who he'd put down for bed over an hour ago, hand curling over the cub's fur and rubbing gently behind his ears until the purring cut out, wandered off into wheezy little breaths. Once the cub was out, Jared had climbed down the ladder and descended the stairs to the main floor, wide and open, and they'd only just started using the fireplace earlier this week. Jared had tried to stir the embers of the earlier flame and failed miserably, casting Brutus a grateful glance when the beta silently came over and started a new fire, putting in fresh logs and stoking it until it burned hot and steady, before retreating back to his post under the stairs, watchful eyes on Jared as he lay down in front of the fireplace.

Outside, the rain was coming down harsher than ever, and Jensen and a group of the beta had gone out to the ridge overlooking the back of the Cove. Apparently it wasn't uncommon for the rain to cause the Cove to flood, in the late fall and the spring, and the beta constructed an impromptu dam from fallen trees and dirt to divert the flow. Jared didn't envy his mate his duties on most days, but especially today. It was evening, not yet night, but the world was cast dark grey with storm, the rain coming down in heavy sheets, pelting the roof of the building, and Jared was grateful for good construction. There was no heating or AC and no indoor plumbing besides the pump at the sink in the kitchen, but the building didn't leak, and that was enough, on days like this. 

He could hear the steady crackle and thump of thunder, both distant and near, and he was glad Brutus was here with him. Not alone. Never alone, not anymore.

He didn't notice falling asleep, firelight warm on his skin, wearing just his sweatpants, and only became aware that he had when he woke, cold water plinking against his skin. He jerked, surprised, and looked up.

Jensen was standing over him, fur sopping wet and whiskers drooping. He looked completely drowned, every inch of him soaked and dripping a pool on the floor. The door was shut behind him, locking out the storm, and Jared had no idea how he'd missed the noise. He could see Brutus watching them, making sure all was well before settling.

"God, look at you..." Jared murmured, and reached for the blankets he'd stacked up in preparation. Jensen sat down patiently, and when Jared's hands found the top blanket, he threw it around his mate's shoulders, sitting up on his knees to thoroughly rub the alpha's fur, trying to take the worst of the moisture out.

 _'Dam collapsed. Had to rebuild it,'_ Jensen explained as Jared rubbed the blanket through the thick fur of Jensen's cheeks. _'Then we heard of flooding out in the hunting grounds. Had to go and make sure it wouldn't get back to pride ground.'_

"Everyone's okay though, right?" Jared asked, softening his voice like it made a difference, hand stroking between Jensen's ears.

_'Yes. The hunters came to help us, and everyone got back safe -- exhausted, but safe. Misha took the minimal patrol out to guard for the night.'_

"God, poor Misha... Can't they forgo patrol for the night? I mean...look at it out there. It's like a typhoon. And it's not like there's a lot of things in the woods that are a big threat to a pride of werecats."

Jensen shook his head.

_'There is always a patrol. There is always someone watching pride ground.'_

Jared sighed and tutted, and was only a little disturbed to realize he sounded exactly like his mother. He loved his pride, was finding his place with them, but they were obsessed with honor and the potential for disgrace. The betas would absolutely ruin themselves before they admitted defeat to anything.

"Stubborn bastards... Poor Julie must be worrying her head off." He finished rubbing Jensen down, getting the worst of the wetness gone, until the alpha's fur was sticking up in tufts, damp but no longer dripping. Jensen stood up and shook himself to even everything out, and water didn't go flying, but Jared lifted his hands as a light mist came off of his mate, and he used another blanket to dry himself off before lying back down in front of the fire. It wouldn't do to go up to their bed like this, and the fire was still burning brightly.

Jared had wanted to light it for just this purpose after all -- to warm and dry his mate, when he came home.

He reached out, hand burying in the thick fur on the alpha's cheek.

"Worried about you..." he murmured.

_'It's just rain. Unpleasant, but we've seen worse.'_

"Still... I didn't like being warm and safe and knowing you were out there struggling to stop the deluge."

'I _liked knowing you were warm and safe, though. Knowing you are is what allows me to do my job.'_ The alpha stepped over, his cat form completely eclipsing Jared, just one paw the size of Jared's head. The great cougar lowered his head, sniffing the naked bulge of Jared's abdomen, as if something would have changed in the few hours that Jensen was out.

Jared thought he might should have been worried about a huge predator, with teeth as long as Jared's fingers and claws that could rip right through him, sniffing at his exposed belly, at his cubs, but he wasn't. He just lay there, hand running through Jensen's fur as his mate sniffed him, laughing a little when Jensen's rough tongue met Jared's skin, the papillae tickling pleasantly against his skin. He heard Jensen begin to purr, rubbing the sides of his head over Jared's stomach, and Jared held his breath for a moment, touched and maybe even a little turned on by the motion -- Jensen rubbing the scent glands on either side of his mouth against the swell of Jared's belly, marking it as his.

Proving it his territory, as if Jared's cub distended form wasn't already a work wrought from the inside out by Jensen's potency.

"C'mere," Jared urged, pulling the great cat down to him, ignoring the mumbles of _'but I'm wet'_ and _'what if I get you sick?'_ until he was leaning against his alpha, head pressed underneath Jensen's, his mate's forelegs extended underneath Jared's shoulders and Jared's arm comfortably slung in front of him, half around Jensen's neck.

 _'...miss me?'_ Jensen asked softly, wryly.

"Don't be an asshole," Jared responded, and curled his hand through the thickness of Jensen's winter coat, the two of them staring in to the bright light of the fire and letting it heat them through. 

The raging of the storm, the thunder and peels of lightning over the heavy fall of the rain, was something locked outside their door. Nothing could touch them in the warm glow of the fire, protected by its flickering orange light.

\-----

**[Week 18]**  


Brutus was seventeen when his cousin became alpha.

 _'Today honors your grandfather's name,'_ his mother had said, as the two of them looked down into the clearing where the fights had taken place. The rest of the pride was gathered in a circle around in, everyone watched.

Jensen was standing, bloodied and beat, but still standing, his paws splayed and coat tinged red. His opponent, his last opponent, had yielded, and was panting on the ground, the two of them still staring at each other, still trying to stare each other down, as if the fight weren't over, and Brutus stared, unable to blink because, for a second, he thought they might well go after each other again.

But instead, Mitch dipped his head, and his eyes turned away.

 _'Alpha,'_ he said in recognition, and the pride moved forward, everyone edging in to see if any new challengers would rise. It had been four long days of fights, young betas playing pretend and older warriors making their last ditch effort and everything in between, but only Jensen was still standing. 

Only the son of his mother's sister, and Brutus's childhood idol.

When it was over, all finally over, the pride came over to greet their new alpha, sniffing at his coat even though they'd known Jensen his whole life, and Jensen had stood there as if he weren't bleeding, as if he hadn't spent four days fighting off contender after contender to stand there, strong and impassible.

 _'Jensen!'_ Brutus had said, bounding up, but his father had stepped in front of him, slowing his steps.

 _'He's Alpha now,'_ his father had said calmly, looking down at Brutus. _'He is Hrao.'_

Brutus had looked to his cousin, confused because this was Jensen, alpha or not, and he couldn't imagine his cousin demanding such a thing of him. Jensen glanced at them, his eyes strange and unreadable, heavy with responsibility, with something older and primal. Brutus looked at his cousin's blood stained coat that set his green eyes glowing, looked at the way his legs quaked but never bent, his tail low and still and the whole pride around him, heads not bowed but still lowered, deferential. 

Jensen didn't look like a stranger. He still looked, in form, like the cat that had let Brutus follow him around, the cat who had played and gamboled with him when they were younger, who'd been Brutus's cubsitter and friend. Brutus didn't see a stranger, but he did see someone new. Someone who wasn't at all that young and carefree, someone who wouldn't be playing and chasing Brutus around the trees anymore. He was an alpha.

Powerful and unmoving, unbent by the world and by any challenger.

And Brutus wanted nothing more than to be just like him

It was that moment that Brutus decided he was going to be a beta. 

It wasn't quite so easy, not by any stretch of the imagination. All the same, Brutus was determined, and he spent nearly eight years as a hunter, joining the hunting parties once he reached his majority, as most young dominants did. There were plenty of others with their sights on the beta, and the older hunters just chuffed and laughed, used to the dreams and whimsy of the young.

After all, the hunters outnumbered the beta two to one, and the beta only accepted a couple of new members each year, and even that was with the expectation that some would fail out over the first year or two.

Brutus didn't care though.

He was going to be a beta, and no one, not his mother, not his father, not his fellow hunters, could convince him otherwise. 

_'But you're so_ small,' his mother had pleaded for the thousandth time, worried for him and apparently unaware of how much the words damaged his pride. He _knew_ he was small for a dominant. Unlike his peers, his body was build almost like a fertile's -- small and slender, nothing like the massive form of his cousin, who carried a great bulk of muscles in his shoulders for fighting. Nothing like the betas, who were strong and silent and unquestionably powerful.

Brutus knew very that when he walked into the field during that year's calling the betas were already chuckling, already laughing at the dominant clearly too full of himself and thinking he could possible pass into their ranks.

But Jensen was sitting over on a large rock, just watching, and he wasn't laughing.

When Brutus looked at him, he smiled a little, and Brutus was absolutely certain he couldn't let his cousin down.

The calling was more savage and merciless than Brutus had ever expected. They made them run for miles, Brutus and the seven other aspirants who'd shown up. There was no stopping, no halting, and the betas were snapping at their heels as they called insults, the air burning hot and harsh in Brutus's lungs. He saw one of the other aspirants stop to urinate, and was immediately disqualified. After three hours, Brutus ran with piss on his hindlegs and a tremendous thundering in his head, his legs gone from aching to numb, running until he couldn't and then still running.

Brutus didn't know that two other aspirants had dropped out already until they were allowed to stop, to drop to the stony ground on the edge of the river. He didn't know until he looked around and saw only himself and three others, and the betas who were putting them through their paces.

The betas, who'd run just as long and just as hard beside them, bullying them on, and who seemed only out of breath, jostling shoulders as they went to drink the water that Brutus was too weak to get to.

It wasn't cruel. Brutus could call out at any time, withdraw and go back to being a hunter, and they'd let him go, take him safely back to camp.

But there was a reason that those two could run that far, that hard, and come out barely winded, and Brutus wanted that. He wanted to have _earned_ that.

So when the next day dawned and they told him to get up, even though his legs felt as if they had no bones in them and his whole body was tight and burning with fire, Brutus still got to his feet.

And after three days in the woods, after test after test, after sparring and drills, Brutus was still standing.

Legs shaking, and coat dirty with grit and river water, but his head unbend, just like his cousin. Small as Brutus was, still a beta.

And he saw his Jensen, over on his rock, nod and smile and slip away.

Brutus had never felt more full.

He already knew that the next few years would be tough. The newest betas were always given the shit jobs -- patrolling the furthest reaches of the hunting ground, spending days alone or with only one other companion, cut off from pride and family. Or given useless missions that served nothing but to prove that they were the lowest in rank, to prove that they just had to do what they were told.

It rankled some of the other younger betas, who complained to one another when their betters weren't around.

 _'Quiet!'_ Brutus had hissed, eventually, shaking his head, tired of the other trainees irritating whining. _'You are here to defend your pride! Don't you see how easily the warriors scale a tree? How fast and far they can run? How even a bear is still a solitary fight to them? They've earned their power, now we must earn ours. Of course we must fight, and strive and hurt. What good are betas who can't protect their families? What good are we if we're only here to wear the name 'beta' like a peacock wears its tail? When the fires come, when the floods, when the men come with guns or a rogue pride comes with tooth and claw, we are the ones who will stand between them and the pride. We are the ones that will die for the fertile and their cubs, so that they may escape.'_

 _'Stop being so dramatic,'_ another one of the young beta replied. _'There's never been any_ fire, _and the rainy season is hardly a_ flood. _And the alpha negotiates with the humans. We're perfectly safe.'_

 _'So why join the beta then? Why put yourself through the pain of your calling? Just so you can call yourself 'beta' and stride through pride ground like a fool? Stop complaining. You cannot become a warrior without trial. You cannot become a warrior without pain._ That _is what it means to be a beta.'_

 _Brutus_ knew what it meant to be a beta. 

He knew because he'd watched Jensen, ever since he was a cub. Brutus had the blood of an alpha, their grandfather, in his veins, after all. He'd been destined to be a warrior, and he was determined to be one at his cousin's side. To be the finest warrior of the pride, no matter his size.

It was why, when Jensen came to him with his 'special task,' Brutus had been crushingly disappointed.

 _'I want you to watch my mate,'_ the alpha asked, sitting next to him. It was supposed to be Brutus's first mission. His first job as a beta, and he'd thought that perhaps his cousin was here to congratulate him. Not to come and deny Brutus the pride of his first true duty.

Not to ask Brutus to be a glorified _cubsitter._

 _'But_...Alpha,' he pleaded, knowing that surely his cousin wouldn't do this to him. Wouldn't make him into such a laughingstock.

_'He needs his own beta, far past time I gave him one, and I want it to be you.'_

_'Alpha, I--'_ Brutus shook his head, looking for any excuse. _'I'm flattered but...surely a more experienced beta...?'_ He couldn't help the note of hope that floated into his voice.

_'The regna is pregnant, carrying my children. He's confused still, and is living as an ailure for the first time in his life. I don't want him left alone, and I want someone I can trust.'_

_'...it's because I'm small, isn't it?'_ Brutus asked, finally, after a bitter pause. He knew he was being disrespectful. He knew he was meant to obey the alpha, not only as a member of the pride, but as a beta, a warrior who'd taken an oath to serve both pride and alpha. But he couldn't help it. He couldn't help his disappointment. _'You don't think I can really be a beta.'_

_'Brutus...'_

_'Don't patronize me! I can do it! I passed the calling just like you did! Just like all the others! It's not fair!'_

_'Brutus--'_

_'It's not fair!'_ he repeated his protest, feeling the scornful heartbreak like glass in his chest. He'd worked so _hard._ He'd done everything asked of him and he'd never complained, not once. And now here he was. _'I can_ do _this, Jensen, please!'_ It was the first time he'd called his cousin by name only since the day of the trial, eight years ago, but surely his cousin still remembered him as family. Surely his cousin would know how this would embarrass him. _'Please, let me show you. I can be a beta, I can! Let me just_ try, _and I'll show you. Did my parents ask for this? You don't have to listen to them. I passed my calling, the same as everyone else! I can_ do _this--'_

 _'Brutus!'_ the alpha called, and there was no mistaking the voice -- it _was_ the alpha. Not Jensen. Not the cousin that Brutus thought he could argue with.

This was his alpha, his leader, and Brutus had just stood there and called him by name like they were still cubs. Brutus dropped his ears, body lowering.

_'Alpha, I--'_

_'Brutus. I'm not asking you to do this to spare you. I'm asking you because this is my mate. The fertile I want to stand beside me for the rest of my life. The fertile who carries my children_ and _my heart with him, and you--...I want it to be_ family _that looks after him. He's already going to have problems with the idea of having a beta. If he were any other regna he would already have more than one, but I can tell I'm going to have to talk him into just taking you on. So... I want it to be family. I want it to be someone he can get to know, and to trust, and most of all, I want it to be someone he will like. I don't want him to be uncomfortable all day with some strange cat following him around. I want him to get to know my cousin. And...'_ The alpha paused, and Brutus quirked his ears up slightly, curious but unwilling to ask after his shameful outburst, his heart already beating with pain for how much he'd overlooked that this was a gift from his cousin to him.

A show of love and trust and respect, and Brutus had spat on it. It felt like he had a stone in his belly.

_'And the regna... He is a saber. A Skybreaker. Brutus, he is one of the last of the Hyl'maithen, and we must protect him. Saul'hrao has brought him to us and charged us with this. In all the world, he is the last child of Yrsa, and I would see myself and all my beta fall before I would see harm come to him.'_

_'A Skybreaker...'_ Brutus murmured, completely blown away. His eyes were wide, just trying to take that in, to reconcile the stories of his childhood, stories of the great cats who could run the sky with the gods, with the very real, very flesh and blood ailure who'd been living amongst them for months now.

Jared, who had the most impressive coat, silver and grey with beautiful striping, and fur on his chest like the sun coming in.

The sun coming in.

A Dawnbringer.

Brutus felt chilled, and he lowered himself to lay on the rock, forelegs in front of him and head upright.

 _'You understand?'_ the _hrao_ continued. _'If anything happens to him, the bloodline of the holy cats will end, as we thought it had forty years ago. Even our pride, even all that we hold dear and beloved, is nothing in the face of that. And that...that is why I need it to be you. I need you to defend him, serve him, and keep him safe. Do you understand now?'_

And Brutus did.

The alpha was asking him to forsake everything they'd ever learned, everything they'd ever believed him. Asking him to forsake the pride, and the alpha couldn't ask anyone else. And Brutus got it completely. Even as much as they loved their pride, their families, as much as they valued each and every cub and fertile...the regna could not die. He was the last of his kind, the last _hope_ of his kind, and only through him would Skybreaker blood ever pass on through the world.

The beta were charged with protecting the pride at the cost of all else.

And the alpha needed someone who would protect one thing above even that.

_'Yes, yes, Alpha, I--...I'm sorry, for all that I said. Even without this, I should never have--'_

And then the alpha lowered his head, butting it against Brutus's and rubbing them together. Brutus didn't know what to do.

 _'I have utmost faith in you. I asked you this not because I thought you couldn't be a beta, but because you were the only beta I could trust with it. I asked you because you have fought, tooth and nail, and you have never given up. You never_ will _give up. And it is that unbreakable will I want walking at my mate's side. Someone who will never surrender.'_

And Brutus felt touched, and ashamed, and so very honored, pressing their heads together, his heart full with emotion and his head with so many thoughts he hardly knew how to process them all.

And yes, when the other betas in training came back from their four day long patrols, wet and hungry and miserable, he was mocked. When it seemed that Brutus had benefited from his family's power in the pride, he was looked down on. Seen as coddled and kept, despite the fact that it was normal for a regna to keep betas at their side.

It changed a little, when Jared's nature was revealed to the beta, the alpha informing the rest of the pride as to the myth within their midst. 

But that didn't mean that it went over well, when they approached the alpha's mate.

"I don't need a babysitter," Jared insisted, crossing his arms, and the alpha made a sound of exasperation.

"He's not a babysitter."

"Then what is he?"

"My cousin, for one."

The regna's expression changed then, faltered, for just a second, eyes flicking over to Brutus, but then quickly back to the alpha. 

"Okay, so he's a babysitter from your family."

"He is a _friend,"_ the alpha stressed. "A trusted friend. It is normal for an alpha's mate to have betas in their service. You're more than just a fertile, Jared, and more than just a body to keep my bed warm. You are my mate, my lifetime bond, and that gives you a position in this pride."

"No one informed me of that!" The regna looked a little panicked. "Jensen, I hardly know how to be an ailure _at all,_ don't make me be some...political figure. How the hell am I supposed to know how to do that? What to say?"

"That is where _Brutus_ can tell you. He is as much ailure as I am. And would but I could alleviate your strains -- but Jared, if you were not regna here, you wouldn't be my _mate._ They are one in the same. As much as when a king in your world marries, their mate becomes queen."

"...don't call me a queen."

"That _is_ what the suffix on your name means, lovely."

"Don't call me a queen!"

"It's not gendered, of course. But it is the title of the one who sits by the ruler's side, just as my title is 'hrao."

"I can't keep up with all this. It's like learning another language. Wait. It is learning another language. What the hell is a regna anyways? Why does everyone keep calling me that? Is that just another word for queen? Which I could deal with, by the by, if it brought to mind crowns and ruffly frills and Buckingham Palace. But it doesn't. It just makes me think that people are expecting me to break out lip syncing Judy Garland while wearing a wig." Jared was ranting a little, words coming out fast, his hands thrown out to his side a little, and Brutus had no idea what he was talking about at all.

"Jared." The alpha stepped forward, grabbing those flung hands and taking them in his own, holding them between the two of them. "Please, calm down and listen to me. First of all, it's a _loose_ translation, taking our words and comparing them to yours. You are _not_ a queen. The _hrao_ and the _hain_ are the mated pair at the head of a pride -- that is all that it means. Secondly, you are _one of us._ You are part of our pride and part of my family now. I would love to devote my every waking hour to you, but I _cannot._ I am _alpha,_ and that means, despite all my affection for you, I will often be gone or away. I want you to have someone to ask questions, someone to lean on. I want to know that both you and my children are safe and cared for. I would be remiss as your dominant -- _irresponsible,_ if I left you or our children without protection."

The regna seemed to pause at that, deflate a little. The whole exchange had been odd to witness, and Brutus barely knew what to make of it. First of all, he'd never met a fertile that spoke as Jared did -- not that fertiles didn't speak their mind, but usually not with such volatile inflection. But also, he had somehow expected the mate of an _alpha,_ and one of the last Skybreakers in the world, to conduct himself with more...dignity. Instead, the regna almost appeared to be a flailing mess.

When the saber spoke again, his voice was lower, and he was looking at Brutus, his hand still in the alpha's.

"...so, Brutus is it?" 

"Yes, Jared'hain," Brutus responded dutifully, but the regna made a sound of disgust.

"Et tu, Brute?" he asked, and Jensen barked laughter, apparently in on a joke that Brutus didn't get. He just frowned in consternation, looking to his cousin as to some kind of hint.

"It's nothing, Brutus," the alpha waved it off, still chuckling.

The regna thrust his hand out towards Brutus, leaving it firm and hovering in the air there. Brutus paused, confused, but he was acquainted with the human custom of shaking hands. It wasn't common amongst ailure, but their pride was particularly human interactive, and the betas who went down into town often used it amongst each other. Brutus extended his own hand, slipping it into Jared's bigger one, the two of them shaking a few times.

"Well...nice to meet you, I guess," the regna said, and then looked a little sheepish. "Sorry about...like...freaking out. I called my family a couple of days ago, and they're coming to visit soon and--...I'm just kind of on edge, is all."

"It's--... I mean, of course, sir."

"You don't have to call me 'sir'. Or use that 'hain' thing."

Brutus's eyes flicked over to the alpha, uncomfortable with addressing the regna of his pride without appropriate respect, especially in light of Jared's heritage. His cousin just shrugged, smiling.

"I'm sure you two will get along fine," he said, turning to face Brutus when the beta pulled his hand back from the shake. Jensen put his hands on either of Brutus's shoulders, looking down at him squarely, and Brutus immediately and automatically pulled himself to attention under his alpha's gaze. "Now, listen well, because this is the last order I will ever give as your alpha."

A frisson of fear ran down Brutus's spine at those words, and he opened his mouth to ask, to question, but Jensen continued before he could.

"From now on, you serve the regna. You are his beta. As you belong to him, his safety belongs to you. As his beta, you no longer need recognize me as alpha. I can never order you to tell me what he has said or done, nor can I order you to contain or control him. Though I am alpha of this pride, and I am _your_ alpha no longer. You cannot have two masters. You serve the regna, and the regna alone. This is the last command I will ever give to you. Do you understand?"

Brutus swallowed, staring into his cousin's eyes. He'd never given much thought to the retinue of an alpha's mate, or how it would work. He'd never thought about the potential for abuse if the alpha ever tried to subvert the loyalty of his mate's servants. But obviously Jensen _had_ thought about it, and staring up at him, Brutus didn't know quite how to process everything.

It wasn't quite how he'd planned things going -- ending up as a guard of a regna, instead of one of the warriors of the beta. Giving up his alpha for a new leader, for a very different cat to serve. In all his imaginings, he was always going to be behind Jensen, supporting his cousin. The beta next to his flank and ready to serve.

But Brutus had to remind himself that he _was_ a warrior of the beta, and always would be. He was a warrior that had been given a Dawnbringer, one of the last, to care for and protect. To give his life to.

And Jensen was asking him to. 

He jerked his chin up.

"I understand, Jensen'hrao."

And his cousin smiled.

It wasn't quite as easy as all that, though, afterwards. Jared was a bundle of nerves for the next week, preparing for his family's arrival. Brutus never quite learned the circumstances behind all the familial drama, but it was clearly something that weighed on Jared's mind, the alpha spending much of his time with his mate. Brutus moved his sleeping quarters from outside with the beta to in the main house, under the stair case. It was a little awkward, but it meant that he was close to his charge, and he never intended to be too far away.

When the alpha was gone, on patrol or dealing with pride business, Jared was fully Brutus's responsibility, and the regna talked almost constantly, worrying about this and that, certain that the entire ordeal was going to be a disaster. Brutus did his best to counsel, but he'd never been much good as a shoulder to cry on, and he'd never been much of a talker anyways. He liked rules, order. He was a simple cat. And in that regard, he and the regna were almost polar opposites, and given to bickering before Brutus remembered who he was talking to and shut up.

The night before the arrival of Jared's family, when Jensen was gone and Jared was pacing the floor of the main house in his cat form, the regna shoved his head towards Brutus, the beta had paused awkwardly before leaning down to bath the other cat.

 _'...it'll be okay,'_ he finally said, doing the best he could, and taking an inordinate amount of relief when he saw the saber start to relax, settling down to lay on the floor.

It appeared that he wasn't _too_ bad at this.

He did his best to watch over the regna during the next week, while strangers were amongst their pride. During the day, Jared was with his family, and at night he was with his mate and cub up in their den. Brutus knew that the alpha was trying to give Jared time alone with his family, and Brutus did his best to watch over the regna in the meantime.

By the time that the strangers left, Brutus could see the lines worn in the pregnant fertile's face, and he worried for his charge's health. There was only one other pregnant fertile in the pride, this season, but it was the cold season, and it was always more worrisome to birth cubs in the winter.

Nine weeks later, it was deep into winter, still too warm for snow, but more than chilly enough, frost clinging to the plants and the pride sleeping their nights in the main house, all curled together for warmth. The wind was whistling harsh, singing to the mountains, and through them, and Brutus was sitting at the entrance to Urrou's Cove, shivering his coat off. He didn't complain though, his senior beta sitting to his right, on the other side of the entrance.

 _'He'll be out soon,'_ Jeff said, that warm curl to his voice.

 _'However much time he needs,'_ Brutus replied, not wanting to seem as if he couldn't tough it. He knew that some of the fertiles still came out here in the winter, although the heavenly cats knew why. It was certainly no place for one carrying cubs though, and when Jared emerged, Brutus leaned in to sniff at the regna's cub heavy stomach, bulging now at the sides, and hanging down slightly.

 _'Stop that,'_ Jared said testily, and Brutus did, but only because he'd reassured himself that everything was fine. 

_'You shouldn't be out here, it's too cold. You should be back in the warmth of the main house,'_ he scolded, walking alongside Jared as they began to make their way back to pride ground.

 _'I'm_ fine. _Other fertiles are out here, aren't they?'_ he asked, and Brutus was about to point out that the others weren't pregnant, but the regna continued. _'Also, stop being a mother hen.'_

 _'Yes, sir,'_ Brutus replied, rolling his eyes. 

_'And stop that! Stop calling me sir. I've asked you like a million times. Aren't you supposed to like...obey me?'_

_'Yes, sir.'_

_'God. You're a pain in my ass, you know that?'_

Brutus smirked to himself, walking up towards the ridge, his dream to become a beta, to protect and serve his pride, his alpha, achieved, but so different than he ever expected. There were no great fights to win, no tests of strength or speed or prowess. There was only this: cat he was responsible for at his side, the regna of his pride and the last child of Yrsa, a sacred gift to the world, and his safety given to Brutus like a gift.

Brutus looked at his charge and smiled.

 _'Yes, sir,'_ he responded.

\-----

**[Week 19]**

The feeling of orgasm rushing through Jared was like a drug, was one of the most amazing feelings, his muscles clenching and his stomach dropping out, and his back arching, coming deep inside, deep in his belly.

It was one of the most amazing sensations.

It wasn't like Jared didn't masturbate, back before he ran away.

He was a teenager, and like any teenager, he'd enjoyed rubbing one out from time to time.

It was just that he'd never quite gotten the appeal, sometimes, when he was in school, listening to his friends talk about who they thought was hot, who they wanted to tap, what actor or actress they'd just _die_ for. He hadn't quite understood why people seemed so desperate to 'lose it' -- why when they hit high school, his brothers and friends were always looking for sex, talking about sex, thinking about sex.

An orgasm felt nice and all, but Jared just hadn't understood, then. Not like he did now.

"Yes," he breathed, tilting his head back and keening, eyes shut and skin sweaty. He let out a little cry as Jensen jerked up harder, deeper into him, and he rocked back against the floor.

He'd never been attracted to anyone before. He understood aesthetics, of course. He'd had some friends in high school that he thought were beautiful, but it was a divorced feeling, something like admiring a painting or a sculpture. Not so much like wanting to hump up against someone. And it wasn't like Jared was sore on the eyes himself -- he'd been asked out by some of the more confident girls, their eyes sometimes shy sometimes hopeful, but always fading to disappointment when Jared couldn't live up to it. He'd said yes to the dates, gone on plenty and made out and opened doors and all the things that were expected of him. 

It was just that it never went anywhere. 

He always shied away when anything threatened to pass first base, and all of his potential relationships had ended before the third date, if not sooner.

There was no human that could quite emulate a dominant, could quite capture the way they walked, the way they talked, the way their hands touched him and grasped him, and Jared whimpered, curling his legs around Jensen's waist, Jared's heavy stomach between them and everything slick. Their skin, their hands, and the space between Jared's legs where Jensen was thrusting wetly in.

He'd never had orgasms like this, and it was being with Jensen that had made Jared finally 'get it.' Made him finally understand what desire felt like, what it was like to want someone, and why everyone seemed to go mad for sex. When masturbating, Jared had only ever touched his erection, and he was only now beginning to learn that his cock was an afterthought in his sexuality -- there for appearances, but not really wired to anything. It would harden and come, a couple short strings of slightly cloudy fluid, but that wasn't the focus. It wasn't anything compared to Jensen being inside of him, lighting him up with cock or fingers or tongue. He'd taught Jensen about hand jobs and blow jobs, back when they'd started, but after four months together, he found he didn't care if his lover touched him there or not. 

Before he'd come here, before he'd run away from home and long before he'd entered Jensen's bed, he'd never even thought to push his own fingers inside of himself. He'd seen himself like any other teenaged boy. He'd just never known why everyone else seemed so into getting off -- so into something that seemed passably nice at best.

No one had ever told him that his body was nothing like other teenaged boys.

"Jensen," he hissed, rocking his hips up and arching his back to give his mate more access, to get Jensen deeper into him. It was euphoric, and he'd already come a twice, but was chasing a third, needing no recovery time like Jensen did and already wanting to come again, to ride that high where his back didn't hurt and his stomach didn't hurt and all the worrying voices in his head shut up. 

Jensen was looking down at him, cradled between Jared's long legs, hands on either side of his waist, and Jared lifted his own hands, one finding Jensen's cheek, the other the side of his neck, his mate's eyes hot and intense, looking down into him. He never thought this could feel so good -- another man in him, around him. Another man's children inside of him. 

He'd never understood why he'd always been so subtly different from everyone, back then. Why he'd always _almost_ fit in, but never quite. Passed as human enough that people didn't question him, but never enough to feel like one of them. He'd never understood, until Jensen had called him 'fertile' and later called him 'mine.'

He clutched his mate and came as Jensen's hips shuddered, and Jared tightened his legs, forcing Jensen to stay inside instead of yanking out as his instincts dictated. 

"Wait," Jared pleaded, body still clutching with orgasm. He shut his eyes, almost wincing as the feeling rolled through him, powerful and strong, until he could breath again, until he could pant out: "Stay. Please, stay."

"Okay," Jensen agreed, equally out of breath, his cock still hard enough to hold inside of Jared, at least for a moment or two more. "Okay, okay..."

He leaned down, shifting his weight to wrap his arms around Jared, and Jared went into them willingly, leaning his head against Jensen's.

"Okay," Jensen repeated. "I got you."

Jared's hands pressed against the sweat slicked skin of Jensen's back, breathing in the powerful scent of his mate, a mate strong enough to lead a pride, a mate powerful enough to appease every instinct deep in Jared's gut. A mate nothing like Jared ever thought to look for, ever thought he'd need.

His breathing evened out slowly, and he felt Jensen kiss his jaw, lick just under it.

When Jensen grew too soft Jared felt him pull out gently, let the other man arrange him in their bed of blankets, his body limp and useless and cared for. He shivered as the rush of sex finally began to fade and he became aware of the temperature, until the blankets came over him, and his mate pressed up against him.

It was nothing like Jared had imagined for himself, when he was fifteen and assuming his future as easily as he breathed -- when he was certain he'd eventually marry a nice human girl and all that hunger and attraction would finally wake up. It was nothing like he'd ever expected he'd ever want.

And yet it was the only thing in his nineteen years of life that made him feel like he was really and truly alive. More than just a boy drifting through the motions and contorting himself into somewhere he could never quite fit.

Jensen's come was wet at his entrance, slicking lazily out of him, and his cubs were shifting sleepily inside of him, and despite those things, or maybe because of them, Jared went to sleep as easy as breathing.

\-----

**[Week 20]**  


"Only a little longer," Jared murmured, his voice soft in the kitchen. He was looking down at his belly, hands on either side of it. His thumbs were moving back and forth, shifting the fabric of his shirt.

Jensen was putting away things from their meal, carefully washing the baked clay dishes in the sink, stopped up and filled with water and weak soap. He was drying them now, towel in hand as he glanced up at his mate. He smiled a little when he noted the posture, the way Jared's tall body was curled over his stomach, a natural need to protect there.

A few more weeks indeed.

"Just a little longer," Jensen mirrored. "And then you'll get to see your cubs."

He expected Jared to smile -- thought that was the conversation they were having -- but it obviously wasn't when he didn't see his saber grin or even quirk his lips. Instead his face remained somber and thoughtful, still looking down at the tender swell.

"Jared?" he asked, setting the plate down before looking back over at his mate. "Is something wrong?"

Just the words made a little jolt of fear lurch in his stomach, even though he had no idea if it was something as trivial as indigestion.

"It's just... Helena's the only other pregnant fertile this season and she's...bigger. And all the pregnant human women I've seen before were bigger. And I have _more than one kid_ in here, it just seems... Is something wrong, Jensen?" Jared looked up, biting at his lower lip. "Do you think there's something wrong? I mean I'm going to be giving birth in less than a month and I don't look more than four or five months pregnant -- I mean, on a human."

"You can't judge yourself by human standards, Jared," and Jensen wished he could make that a plaque or something. Put it on a big canvas over the fireplace, because Jared judged _everything_ about his body by human standards, even after several months here, and Jensen knew it tore at his fertile's heart.

He also knew that a lifetime couldn't be gotten over in a matter of months, no matter how much he wished it.

"Yeah, I know... but seriously, Jensen. I'm really not that big. I've put on like...what? Twenty pounds? That's nothing. I kept thinking 'oh, they'll grow more towards the end' and 'it's fine, they still have time' -- but they don't. It's going to happen in the next three weeks and that's nothing. It's nothing, Jensen. And I just-- I knew there'd be something wrong. Back at the beginning. I said it to Jeff. I may be an ailure, but I was raised a human, and who knows what that does? Maybe my insides are all wrong. Maybe I'm _pickling_ them. I just don't know, and I don't--" He let out a frustrated breath, lifting one hand to run through his hair. "What if something's wrong _right now_ and I'm not doing anything?"

Jensen wiped his hands, drying them off before setting the dishtowel down. It was a worry that had nagged at him too, unfortunately. Jared _was_ small for this stage of his pregnancy, and Jensen's last experience delivering his children had been sufficiently traumatic that there was no way he _wasn't_ going to worry through this pregnancy, no matter if anything was wrong or not. And there wasn't. He knew that. Every day he felt the cubs in Jared's belly moving, shifting as their living space got tighter as they got bigger, and he could press his ear to Jared's skin and listen to the sound of the amniotic fluid moving as the cubs did. He could hear their heartbeats.

They were fine.

Every bit of reason and logic and science told him that.

But reason stood no chance in the face of a parent's concern, and Jensen felt his heart tighten. He walked over to his mate, reaching out. He slid his hands over Jared's stomach, one over the hand Jared still hand there, the other against the fabric of his t-shirt.

"Can you still feel them moving?" he asked softly, trying to keep his voice as gentle as possibly, every instinct in him tuned to be sensitive to a fertile, but even more so when that fertile was heavy with cubs. He'd always felt stirred to see them, seeing the fertile carrying their litters with such grace and fortitude -- made them even more beautiful than they already were. The feeling was even more intense when it was _his_ litter. _His_ cubs.

Inside _his_ mate. His wonderful, rare saber.

It hadn't even felt this way with Cosette, a friend he loved dearly and always would.

Jared nodded, as if reluctant to admit his fears were unfounded.

"Yeah. Every day, it seems like they're moving more... And I _know_ that's a good sign. I know. But, just--" He shook his head.

"But you still feel like something's wrong," Jensen supplied.

"Yes!" Jared's brow wrinkled, and Jensen's heart pinched when he saw real grief at the edges of Jared's eyes. "What if they're hurting, Jensen? What if they're sick or in pain and I'm not doing anything? What if I'm just standing around like an idiot while they're dying inside of me and I--and I--"

"Shh..." Jensen pulled him in immediately, before the first sob hit, his arms going around his mate and willing to hold him up if he had to. Jared didn't cry loudly, not as he had months ago by the edge of the river bank, talking about what had driven him to run. This wasn't that kind of thing.

It wasn't something deep and meaningful. It was a natural fear mixed with every chemical pumping through Jared's body, touching on his already sensitive fertile nature. 

But that didn't make it not real.

Hormonal or not, it was incredibly real to Jared, at that moment, and there was no way that Jensen would take it with anything less than utmost seriousness.

"There's nothing wrong," he said, trying to reassure, and putting on his best 'alpha' voice to do so. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with your cubs, Jared. You're doing nothing wrong. A few more weeks and they'll be out here and you'll see that they're fine. They're gonna be fine."

Jensen couldn't know that, and he couldn't lie to himself and say that he didn't have all the same irrational fears.

But he could lie to Jared, because Jensen did know his fears were irrational, and Jared didn't need to hear about all of Jensen's nightmarish concerns. He didn't need to carry that on top of everything else.

"It's just a small litter, Jared," he comforted as best he could. "That's all. It's just a small litter, and that's perfectly normal. Helena is only bigger because she's carrying more cubs. That's all it is, I promise..."

He felt a measure of relief when Jared's arms came up around him in return, a show of tacit acceptance, or at least willingness to listen. Jensen wished he could give his mate a real promise -- one that was more than just words but a show of real, undeniable proof. He wished he could take Jared to see a doctor, as he knew that Jared had wanted to. He wished he could give his mate the comfort of a sonogram, the knowledge that his cubs were okay beyond a shadow of a doubt.

But they had no such equipment, and no pride in the world would smile upon him taking one of his fertiles into a human doctor. To allow any of them to be poked and prodded, no matter the good intentions.

As accepting of humans as Jensen's pride was, ailure as a whole were still distrustful, and even if he had chose to wave all that and take the chance, he would be risking revealing Jared's nature to the world. Exposing his mate to a kind of publicity that would be frustrating and uncomfortable at best, dangerous at worst.

And it would be made that much more risky by Jared's pregnancy.

So all Jensen could give his saber were promises made from hollow words, a valiant oath sworn against the wind and blown away just as easily, murmured into Jared's ear as the fertile began to quiet, fit of emotional turmoil beginning to pass. But Jensen wasn't foolish enough to think that that meant the worry would leave.

He knew, at least, that it wouldn't leave him. Not until his cubs were born and his beloved saber was safe and sound.

"It's just a small litter, Jared... Just a small litter..." He curled his hand at the back of his mate's head, fingers running through soft hair, and he uttered a soft prayer, a plea to Urrou to watch over Jensen's mate, and all his tender burdens.

\-----

**[Week 21]**

_'It's_ cold,' one of the other beta's complained, the rest of them grumbling equally as they shuffled out of their beds and into the hazy daylight, six large bodies moving out to replace the six coming home, and Misha himself was just coming off the night shift.

 _'Cold, ha. I could tell you about cold,'_ the captain replied.

_'Here he goes.'_

_'Where_ I _come from, cold is when you lose a limb. You pretty princesses have it easy in this Southern heat.'_

_'Captain, twenty degrees isn't 'heat.' I don't care where you come from.'_

_'Don't get him started,'_ one of the other beta growled. _'Just get up and head out, before he starts in with the stories. It's worse than patrol, I promise you.'_

 _'You_ wound _me,'_ Misha complained with a toothy grin. _'Don't let Ray mislead you! My stories are magical!'_ he shouted after them as the group went to leave, chuckling to himself. He watched the other five betas moving into the shack they used for rest when they were on their off periods, legs stepping over other grousing bodies and finding spots to settle. They were well worn after a night spent up and patrolling through the cold, and Misha may have been at this longer, and he may have been captain, but he felt it too -- that weary readiness to rest, to close his eyes and warm his bones. 

To see his family most of all. His sleek fertile and their beautiful cubs.

The difference was, though, that Misha had more experience with dealing with it than most of the others -- and that he had a face to keep up. As captain, he was their example, their guide. He could never be weaker than them, never falter before them. 

He waited until there was quite again on pride ground, the early morning birds twittering away despite the chill, and Misha hopped lively over the stone towards the mainhouse, and towards his Julie, when motion caught his eye just in front of the building. The alpha was standing out on his stone, looking down over pride ground. Behind him, the door to the building was just slightly open, and Misha jogged over curiously.

When he glanced inside he could see the rest of the pride -- a bit thinned out now, the today's hunting party obviously already having left, and a few others having gotten up to fulfill their tasks. The room was cleared enough that Misha could just make out their pride's Dawnbringer regna settled down by the ember's of last night's fire. In the lee of his belly, the alpha's young son was situated, too big by half, but nursing anyways, suckling away for his breakfast. Misha couldn't help but smile -- his cubs were the same, just about now. They were being weaned, and both Misha and Julie would regurgitate meat for them, but the cubs all still wanted to scramble in at their mother's belly, determined not to leave behind the comforts of their childhood, the comfort of nursing. The milk wasn't enough to sustain them, anymore, ten months old and all of them well sized cubs, mobile and active. That didn't mean they didn't still want the milk, though.

 _'You're up early,'_ Misha greeted his alpha as he padded over to the bigger cougar.

 _'I'm always up early,'_ Jensen reminded. 'And _up late.'_

_'Fate of an alpha.'_

_'Too right, my friend. Too right.'_

_'I meant, it's odd to see Jared up. He wasn't much of a morning person -- at least, when he was living with me,'_ Misha added, and Jensen nodded along.

 _'It's the kittens. They've been giving him problems. Keeping him up at night. He finally got up about an hour ago, but he was tossing and turning long before that. Of course, once Jared got up, Tristan got up, and then we were_ all _up...'_ Jensen made a vague motion of 'and on and on' with his paw.

 _'Looks like they're spending good time together anyways,'_ Misha commented warmly, glancing back at the fertile and cub. Jared had stopped making milk after he'd arrived, several months ago. Tristan had still been young enough to need the sustenance, and so had been brought to Julie a few times a day to nurse with the rest of Misha's cubs. After awhile, it had seemed to wear on Jared though. He wouldn't talk about it much, but Misha knew that the regna still felt uncertain of his place as Tristan's mother, as if the fact that he didn't give birth to the cub changed the fact that Jared had raised him.

"It's weird. I _hated_ nursing back when I was doing it, but now..." Jared had said, only two and a half months ago, his arms curled around his knees, he and Misha watching Julie nurse Tristan as well as her own kittens. "Now I kind of miss it. I kind of... It sounds stupid, but I'm a little jealous, sometimes, that Julie gets this."

"Jared, it's not stupid at all. And you have nothing to worry about." Misha had reached over, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Julie's just his wet nurse. _You_ are his mother."

Jared had smiled then, relaxed a little, but Misha was still glad to see the saber able to spend this time with his son. The fertile was nearing his last month of pregnancy, and his body had begun to create milk again in preparation for the kittens he'd soon be nursing. It gave Jared and Tristan a little time to bond one on one.

 _'He comforts Jared,'_ Jensen replied, also looking back over his shoulder. _'You'd think it'd be the other way around but...'_

The alpha chuckled and shook his head.

 _'Are you ready?'_ Misha asked, watching his friend of many years with a half grin. _'I can answer that for you right now -- you're not ready. You think you are, but you aren't.'_

 _'Unlike_ you, _you irresponsible rake, I've always looked forward to having cubs.'_

_'Yeah, but that means nothing. In a month you two are going to be crawling in kittens and begging me for help.'_

Jensen snorted.

 _'Not likely,'_ he replied. _'The day I come to you for parenting advice is the day my frill falls out. Case and point, why are you sitting here talking to_ me _when your mate is in there alone with five cubs?'_

Misha had to admit, Jensen kind of had a point there. He turned and loped lazily back towards the mainhouse, the pads of his paws moving over the ground slowly as he paused to stretch.

_'One more month, my friend. I'm telling you.'_

_'Go to_ bed, _Misha.'_

 _'Of course, alpha.'_ He paused. _'And hey, Norman told me your little_ delivery _had arrived, when he made the last run into town. Just thought you might like to know.'_

Jensen perked up at that, looking interested, the tip of his tail flicking. Misha smirked.

_'Such a goddamned romantic...'_

_'Go to bed, Misha!'_

Misha chuckled to himself, managing to find just enough energy to pick up his pace, slipping into the shadow of the mainhouse, two weeks into December and the sun distant and pale. The room was a warm mass of interweaving bodies, and Misha smiled when he saw his mate and children, only now just beginning to stir. He loved sharing this time of year with his cubs -- showing them the way the pride all came together as a family.

But now he was tired and content, looking forward to his well deserved sleep, carefully making his way through the maze.

His alpha and regna were safe, and the pride was sleeping undisturbed.

It had been a good night.

\-----

**[Week 22]**  


Jensen stared at the end product of all his work, laying out over the palms of his hands.

It hadn't been hard to make, all told. Most of the materials he'd found around pride ground, and Jensen had carved little nick-knacks before, back when he was a kid. Still, he'd been inordinately proud, once he'd assembled all the pieces, attached the pendants that he'd had to pay for and have delivered, too complex to make by himself.

He was proud, until two seconds later, and then he was uncertain.

He wasn't in the tradition of giving gifts, and overall, few ailure were. He wasn't used to looking at something and genuinely wondering if someone else would like it or not. Their people weren't given to keeping anything beyond necessities. They lived comfortably, but their homes were nothing like the human homes that Jensen had seen during his trips to town, or his times eating uncomfortably at the mayor's house, hands awkwardly gripping utensils he didn't know how to use.

Still, he'd spent time _and_ pride money to make it, and his mate was swiftly approaching his due date, and Jensen knew well enough how many baseless worries were floating around in Jared's head at the moment -- that would be floating around in _any_ fertile's head, this close to birth, and on their first litter.

Jensen only hoped that he could take Jared's mind off of it, even if just for a moment.

Of course, that was easier said that done -- even just to find a time when they could be alone. The first night, Jared was already asleep when Jensen had finally made it home, and curled up amongst their kin near the fire. The next morning, Jensen was woken to help deal with a small collapse in one of the older cabin's roof, the wear making it unstable enough for the weight of the snow to push it in. Jensen had expected it to be a short day, but after the roof, and then helping the fisher's break through the ice in their eddies, and then helping the third hunting party bring in and salt their kill of a lean winter buck, Jensen found himself stumbling home late again.

The day after that, he was determined, but Jared spent his time with the fertiles, all the mothers of Tristan's littergroup taking their cubs out to play in the snow, all of them keeping an eye on the bunch, and Jensen didn't want to interrupt -- didn't want to take away from this time of Jared bonding with his fellow fertiles. 

The fourth day, even Jensen had to admit that he was really just pusillanimous.

But on the fifth day, with Tristan off spending the afternoon with Cosette, Jensen managed to corner his mate just outside the mainhouse, sitting on the little bench where they'd talked and drank and watched the fireflies, months ago. Jared was holding smoking mug in between his two big hands, presumably of the saber's precious hot chocolate -- which he'd bought in town a few weeks back, and fiercely guarded his meager supply.

"Jared?" the alpha queried, not wishing to sneak up, and whatever reverie had caught the younger cat broke, Jared turning away from the white picture that pride ground presented to look over at Jensen.

"Hey," he said, softening a little. "Haven't seen you much recently, stranger."

"Yes," Jensen replied, walking over, bending slightly at the waist. His hands rose and automatically and immediately sought out his mate's rounded belly, coming to either side, always eager to touch, to feel the irrefutable evidence of life beneath Jared's taut skin. "I'm afraid the season has kept me away from you... I promise to remedy that."

"You don't have to... I mean, I don't want to monopolize your time. I know you have a lot to take care of, and I have Brutus--"

"But Brutus is not your mate," Jensen reminded, stepping possessively closer. "And though I am alpha, I am also that -- mate. I should be here for you, especially now." He glanced down, thumbs rubbing back and forth absently as Jensen looked at his mate's abdomen. "It shouldn't be long... Not long at all. And there's nothing in the world that would keep me from being there."

Jared turned away, just enough to set his mug down on the bench, before pushing himself to stand, despite Jensen's protestations. When he was righted, Jared lifted his long, graceful hands, placing them against the fore of the alpha's shoulders.

"Hey, I know. Where's all this coming from? I'm not mad at you. I mated an alpha, I knew what I was getting into."

Jensen rolled his eyes.

"No you didn't," he pointed out. "You've never lived with a pride before. You thought the salting shack was an outhouse."

"One time! Once! And I figured out my mistake when I walked in and saw a bunch of meat hanging around. It wasn't like I did... _you know._ Anyways, that was _weeks_ ago--"

"I'm just saying--"

"Okay, okay. I _didn't_ know what I was getting into, but I had an _idea,_ anyways. I'm not going to be mad at you for being out there...saving lives and fighting for truth and justice--"

"You really have no idea what I do at all, do you?"

"--so it's fine." Jared shrugged. "You don't need to apologize."

"Yes, I do," Jensen replied, softer, and tugged Jared a little closer, so that his swollen stomach pressed to Jensen's, and the alpha was able to lean up and kiss his mate's nose. "You are young, and mine, and carrying your first litter... I wish it had been during the first heat season. There is so much less to take care of in the summer. My point is... I wanted to be here for all of this. For every moment. And I know you've been worrying so... I got you something." He stepped back, digging into his pockets. "I hoped it would take your mind off of things."

"Jensen, you didn't have to--" Jared started, and Jensen pulled the necklace out. It was long and looped, a thick cord of leather that had been strung with wooden and glass beads, several long enough to hang down and clink together as it moved. There were two larger pendants on it, both silver with tiger's eye carved and embedded in the shape of a rising sun.

"It's-- It's called a shifting necklace. And this is probably stupid." Jensen felt his face heat. "I don't _actually_ know if the sabers did this. I mean, it's just in the stories so I could be giving you something truly ridiculous and based on nothing at all--"

"Jensen..."

"...my mother used to tell me that the Hyl'maithen would give their mates shifting necklaces. Well, the dominants would give their fertiles. It was a sign of commitment. A promise of the work the dominant would do to keep their mate safe." Jensen was still feeling a little like he should have thought this through more, but he was a little encouraged by the look on Jared's face -- a little shell shocked. A little blown away. "It's a necklace that's designed to be worn by a shifter. The space around your neck will change with you, so you can wear it in human and in cat form. ...if you want to, that is."

"I--"

"I'm aware it's a bit silly," Jensen interrupted, before Jared could respond. "And, now that I think about it, human males don't wear jewelry, do they?" And Jared so very much identified as that, fertile or not. Jensen had automatically thought of what a gift he'd like to give his fertile would be, but forgot that his fertile didn't _think_ of himself as a fertile. Jensen cursed under his breath, lowering the necklace. "It's possible I could have thought this through a bit more. I had just thought-- Well. I'm not sure exactly _what_ I thought, but it-- I had wanted to get you something. But I should have thought more about what _you_ would like instead of just--"

"Jensen!" Jared said more sharply, cutting the alpha off. "If you'd just _stop_ for a second..." He shook his head with a slight smile, reaching out to let his fingers brush over the beads of the shifting necklace. "...you made this for me?" He glanced up.

"Yes," Jensen responded simply, no wish to lie, even if he felt just about as embarrassed as he could.

"It's..." Jared shook his head, then quirked his lips in a slight smirk. "A sign of commitment, you said? This you asking me to marry you?"

Jensen's mouth flapped a bit uselessly, knowing full well what human marriage was, but the concept simply not part of ailure culture. Once one formed a mateship, that was...well. That was it.

"Gonna make an honest man of me shotgun wedding style?" Jared was still smirking though, despite his words, and Jensen knew well enough to know when he was being teased. His cheeks felt a bit heated, but he supposed he deserved it -- and at least Jared looked happy.

Then the fertile reached out and took the necklace, holding it clutched in one hand and lifting it up to peer at it, other hand shifting through the beads as they clacked together. He stopped at the lowest pendant, taking it in his fingers and looking down at it, letting the light shift over the shiny metal and stone.

"A rising sun..." he murmured.

"The sigil of your people," Jensen responded softly. "Of where you come from."

He paused, watching Jared's face as light reflected off the silver, casting a pattern across the fertile's cheeks, and Jensen decided to press forward.

"I told you once that I'd show you who you are." He reached out, fingers touching the carved tiger's eye. "...this is part of that."

Jared was silent, eyes flicking up to Jensen before returning to the pendant, and his face was unreadable. Jensen wished for a flash, a glance, an idea of what his mate was thinking, still feeling a little foolish just standing there, but Jared wasn't laughing at him, or looking at the necklace with distaste, and the alpha took comfort, at least, in that. His eyes traced every edge and plain of his mate's face, looking for some telling sign in a boy so usually expressive, so very emotive, but came back with nothing.

Just when Jensen considered breaking the tableau, taking the stupid thing back, Jared looked up at him.

"How do I put it on?" he asked, and Jensen swallowed maybe a bit thickly. He stepped forward, reaching out for Jared to hand him the necklace. He reached up, his fertile long and tall, and stretched it around the other ailure's neck.

"Once around," he instructed softly, fingers moving. "Then again, and hook on each side so that it will slide when you shift."

He arranged it so that the first pendant sat squarely in the center of Jared's chest, just below his collar bone, the second pendant hanging down at the base of his ribcage. The design had been fairly simple -- just a couple of hooks positioned to latch on to two smooth sections, enough to keep the necklace taut, so that it wouldn't fall off in Jared's cat form, but could shift and morph just as Jared's body did.

Jensen's hand moved to press against the lower pendant, something heavy stirring in his chest at the sight -- Jared wearing his necklace. A saber accepting his gift, his promise of fidelity and provision, to always protect and provide. It was, as a dominant, Jensen's most honored burden.

"...thank you," Jensen said, finally.

"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?" Jared responded, stepping close, into Jensen's space. "I'm the one that got a gift."

"No." Jensen shook his head and smiled. His hand came up, pressing to the other ailure's jaw. "I am."

He pulled his fertile down to him, felt Jared come with the motion without protest, mouths pressing together as humans did, lips parting to let the cold air rush in before they sealed together. Jensen tightened his arms, holding fast, and his mate's mouth tasted of heat and chocolate.

Between them, the shape of the shifting necklace pressed against Jensen's skin.

\-----

**[Week 23]**  


The noise of the pride downstairs filtered up through the space and into the attic, a constant and comforting murmur, punctuated by brief laughs or yowls, the sounds of cats and humans voices together blending.

A few feet over, Tristan was already zonked out, one ear barely visible beyond the mound of blankets. The attic was built on to the side of the chimney, one wall all rock and cement, and the heat of the fire below radiated out, keeping the space warm and cozy. Even so, the blankets didn't go unappreciated at night, in the dead of winter as they were.

Jared's fingers were fiddling with his necklace, flipping the lower pendent in between his knuckles, as had become a habit for him over the past few days, especially when he was thinking. And tonight, like almost every night this week, he could only think of one thing.

His hand dropped the pendant, drifting down to his belly, pressing to the taut skin and feeling the sleepy, sluggish motions of his cubs inside of him, their rest fitful now, inside of their cramped living quarters. It could be any day now. Any day that he went into labor, and he honestly couldn't say if he was desperate for it to arrive or terrified that it would. Desperate to see his children and know they were alright, desperate not to let down Jensen, to put him through something like that _again,_ but terrified that he might. Terrified to face that moment of truth.

And, to be honest, a little terrified of the pain. Of what it would feel like.

Though he felt guilty and selfish for thinking it.

"Hey," a voice interrupted him, and he looked up to see his mate coming in through the hatch. Light glowed up from below and the noise increased for a second before the alpha walked the last few steps up the ladder and softly shut the hatch behind him. He took a moment to go and check on Tristan, smiling when he saw his cub peacefully resting, then made his way over to Jared and their bed. 

"Everything okay down there?" Jared asked.

"Yeah, the usual... Misha's telling stories of the cat gods. He always was a good storyteller."

"And you didn't want to stick around?" Jared smiled as Jensen kicked off his pants and stripped himself of his shirt. 

"I sleep where you sleep, lovely," Jensen reminded, and the two of them had spent several nights down with the group. It was pleasant -- enjoyable to be surrounded by so many warm bodies for the night, even if it did mean sleeping on hardwood floors. Tonight, though, Jared hadn't felt particularly social.

Jensen glanced down at Jared's hand, the one over his abdomen, but the cold was clearly pricking at his skin. He hurried around to the other side, to be between Jared and the wall, between Jared and the cold, and got quickly under the heavy blankets. His chill flesh pressed to Jared's warmth, and the younger ailure hissed at the sensation. 

"Heat thief," he muttered.

"Mm, you'll warm me up soon enough," Jensen hummed in reply, pressing himself up along Jared's back, moving one arm over the fertile's waist and covering Jared's hand over his belly. "Everything alright...?" he asked, voice more serious.

"Yeah..."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, everything's fine." Inside, he felt one of the cubs move again, setting off a chain reaction of squirming before they settled again. He could feel Jensen's smile against the back of his shoulder. "See? All good. Good and...wiggly."

"They will be active and strong, I'm sure," Jensen replied, doing nothing to disguise the fatherly pride in his voice. "I cannot wait to meet them."

"Me neither..." Jared murmured.

"Everything is _fine,_ Jared, I promise." The alpha's hand rubbed down a little lower, under the round curve, cupping it.

"Yeah."

"They'll be alright."

"Mm..."

"Any day now... You'll see."

"Any day now..." 

Jared just hoped he was ready. He was nineteen, and he felt so unprepared. He couldn't help but think about all the things that people in the weeks preceding a birth, couldn't help but think about the diapers and cribs, bottles and pacifiers and all kinds of things he didn't have. He thought about couples painting a nursery, and wondered, maybe, if he did something like that it would feel more real, like it was really happening to him. 

As if having cubs resting down on his bladder most hours of the day wasn't proof enough.

His hand crept back up to his necklace, fiddling absently with it. He hoped he could be strong enough, for Jensen, for the kittens. He hoped he could be the mother that Jensen and the others seemed to see in him, that Tristan saw in him. He hoped he could be the kind of mother his was -- loving and wonderful, devoted to her kids, if not a bit neurotic. Jared smiled a little to himself. He hoped he could manage however many cubs ended up popping out of him, could love them all, and god, he hoped there weren't too many.

And not only for his sanity.

He hoped that it was a small litter because otherwise there was something wrong. His stomach was still not that big, and he felt them moving, felt them shifting all the time, but he worried any way. He couldn't help but.

He wished there was a doctor he could talk to, someone he could ask all his so very human questions. All his nonsense, crazy questions, and just get them out of his head. He wished he could settle those worries once and for all. He wished he could know the future.

"Jared," Jensen mumbled sleepily.

"Mm...?"

"Go to sleep." The alpha tugged him back against himself, and Jared 'oof'ed, letting out a long sigh as he arranged himself against his mate, sleep feeling like the last thing he could possibly do, his mind everywhere at once.

Any day now. Any day.

Jared clutched the pendant of the necklace tight, thumb rubbing over the tiger's eye.

And began to pray.

Outside, the snow continued to fall.


End file.
